Deathbike 9000
Before I got my first car, a smelly old V reg Corsa that has an uncanny resemblance to the car I learned to drive in, my main mode of transport was my pushbike. I'd regularly cycle the 7 miles to my job stacking shelves at ASDA or to school and so on. Unfortunately the main road I travelled on was also the main route for Lorries headed out to Kelty or Dunfermline from Stirling. Oh fun.

One day, having successfully managing to play bicycle frogger with the lorries all the way into town, I begin to relax.

Then some wee shite (funny to say that, back then they were older than me)decides to not check who's coming along as he pulls out of parking by the side of the road and comes straight at me.

I think I uttered something like "Oh holy crapfuck" before going flying over the handlebars and roof of the tin plated A reg Nova with the baked bean can exhaust to make it sound bigger.

My bike was ruined, the front forks were bent back and stripped of paint, the front wheel was in several pieces, many of which were spokes in my legs (ouch btw). I had the satisfaction that in its death throws my bike had wreaked some havok and done a can opener job on the bonnet and windshield of the twunts car. It was like a can of sardines made of Vauxhall.

It turned out this guy (who asked if I wanted him to call an ambulance at least) lived in my village, 3 months later in his brand spanking new Renault 5 with the white spoiler and overrated sound system was driving down the main road of the village when his brakes failed and he went headfirst into a lamppost. He wasn't wearing a seatbelt, so was propelled out through the windshield and hit the lamppost with his head, which exploded.

Seatbelts are there for a reason y'know.
(Andari, Wed 18 Oct 2006, 10:23, Reply)